


you're lucky we even love you, so say "thank you" to me

by thebetterbina



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Citadel of Ricks, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, Inspired By That One Video I Saw On Youtube, Light Angst, Other, as like a separate series maybe???, idk i took liberties with evil morty's personality, might continue who knows, there isn't any angst i just wanted to type
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebetterbina/pseuds/thebetterbina
Summary: He loves Mortys for their meekfulness, the way they manage to remain silent yet thrum with unbridled energy and ferocity when uninhibited, he loves them for their seemingly idealistic way of thought and eyes that would seem iridescent with the way the galaxies are gazed into as if some long - lost treasure and they were just boys wanting to explore the world.He loves Mortys because they remind him of his old self, so he hates them.They know their new President doesn't tell lies, but some can't help wonder how many lies he's already told.





	you're lucky we even love you, so say "thank you" to me

**Author's Note:**

> Oneshot because I hate myself and I hate my perfect little evil son!
> 
> Heavily inspired by Tous les Mêmes by Stromae and especially [this amazing video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kHxymLS6jg) made by [@liszykinky](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/liszykinky) over at tumblr! Remember to show some support!
> 
> I'm still a human who makes mistakes, so feel free to correct me in the comments if you see any!

 

 _All you men are all the same,_  
_macho but cheap._  
_A band of wimpy unfaithfuls._  
_So predictable._

 

 

Ricks, he thinks, are probably the worst example of human evolution. A knife-sharp intellect coupled with crippling depression only exemplified the meaning of what “ignorance is bliss” meant - then again, he reconsiders this, maybe that would serve just to unnerve them.

Unnerve them, because the simple act of not knowing would drive a Rick up a wall; to not know, to not understand, to be forced into dark waters - he knows any Rick would hate that feeling.

He knows because his own Rick hated that feeling.

That isn’t to say he was never in the same position - too many dimensions were there a Morty who’d wake up to an inebriated Grandfather, knife at throat, spitting curses and threats only to pass out cold with remnants of fear crippling an already disturbed teenage body.

Oh, who was he kidding? Those memories **weren’t his** in the first place.

But really, he’s just proving a point, after all anyone would hate being kept in the dark.

 

 

 _No, I'm not certain that you_  
_deserve me._  
_You're lucky we even love you,_  
_so say "thank you" to me._

 

 

Faces of undulated adoration are the only ones he’s ever been greeted with since being elected, and to think, a **Morty** President for a citadel meant for _Ricks_ and their Mortys.

Mortys.

He thinks he likes their screams, whether in agony or happiness he doesn’t mind either, the fact is: they cheer his name when he stands behind the podium.

They see his face and they revere and in those moments he feels like a demented God, with power thrumming under fingertips as a single wave silences them all. It’s not in fear, _never in fear_ , they go quiet because he’s a Morty - they go quiet because he’s a Morty that commands attention. A Morty with power.

Power, some Mortys think to themselves, they’ll never have.

It’s a thought that’s quickly crushed under his regime.

So the Morty schools are the first to go.

He doesn’t teach Mortys to be subservient, he doesn’t teach Mortys to obey, he doesn’t teach those pitiful yellow - shirted absurdities to submit. The excuse of an “education system” is thrown out the window like an unwanted rag - he puts Mortys to better use instead.

They’re young, still growing, but they don’t complain and make excellent workers. Some Mortys make it big in the citadel, some have been assigned into his own office, special few become part of President’s favourite SEAL team, only the good ones of course.

Overall lives of Mortys are really the reason why the young President is so popular with his counterparts, because he teaches them that they have their own strengths.

They love their President because he teaches them the value of their existence.

They love their President because they realize a Rick would be lucky if he even had a Morty.

 

  
_Appointments, see you at the next legal settlement._ _  
_ _Appointments, see you at the next hearing then._

 

  
One of the biggest overhauls he made, had also given way to a new legislation. He remembers the conversation with his Vice Secretary with a certain fondness.

_“Sir, you do realize this … overwrites everything you’ve done?”_

The words come slow, stutter - free as a method to help Mortys who were ridden with the issue. He’s proud to say the least, at how far some have manage to come without bursting into a repetitive mess. So he allows for an enigmatic smile, one that no doubt has the Morty counterpart nervous - they’re always scared when he smiles, maybe it’s because he’s only ever done it when enraged.

_“It’s just a little step back, nothing major.”_

So in accordance with the Laws governing the Citadel of Ricks, each Morty inhabiting and having been registered in the Citadel is designated to a Rick, and vice versa.

 

 

 _I swear that's it,_  
_that was the last time._  
_You can say I'm throwing a fit,_  
_ready to walk out with my suitcase._

 

 

Maybe anarchy threatened to break when it was announced, from Mortys having panic attacks at the thought of being shackled to a Rick - and Ricks who were almost relieved knowing they’d get their own little mental shield by their side.

With all his suave charm and easy words, of course the President manages to quell everything to a soft lull, it’s planned - from the phase of detailing what each Morty and Rick demanded from their new match to the eventual pairing and switching of dimension numbers.

And of course he deals with any of the repercussions, from Mortys begging to be assigned a new Rick (abuse cases, fear cases, just wanting to live a life whether inside the Citadel with a job or as a child of the Smith family) to Ricks requesting a change of Morty (death, incompatibility, unwillingness to do anything the Rick would demand).

He leaves the Ricks and Mortys who already are comfortable with each other, alone for the most part, no real need to separate a set who were already content.

 

  
_You will say goodbye to (my) mother who idolized you,_  
_you have no idea what you're losing._  
_Believe me, it'll be worse with anyone else._

 

 

He knows some Mortys who’ve only met their Rick well into their teens, he knows these Mortys because he has their memories of a spaceship and asking Rick -

 

_“Where have you been these twenty years?”_

 

All he hears?

A sigh. Excuse. Excuse. Excuse. **Blatant lie.** It infuriates him.

He thinks of Beth, his mother, he’s had memories taken from a Beth of another dimension - growing up without a father, the pain of living incomplete without a father figure. Yet loving the wretched man all the same and vying for his attention like some depraved child starved of affection. He’s seen dimensions where her jealousy blanketed her love for her own children.

He decides, Ricks aren’t deserving of that unconditional love.

 

 

 _What? You also want to end it now?_  
_The world's turned upside down!_  
_I only said it to get a reaction… (yet you thought it to yourself)_

 

 

It’s a sick, gratifying, feeling. Planting the seed of deep rooted doubt, watching it flourish to mistrust; then giving Mortys the option to stay with a Rick or prosper under the rule of a Morty who’d provide everything they needed to live a life of - safety, comfort, freedom.

The damn closest thing to happiness a Morty could have.

It’s a sick, gratifying, feeling. Pulling Mortys away from their original Ricks and watching desolate faces fall further as he walks away with them. Some try to follow after his shadow, they really do, but his own team of Ricks are ever loyal to point their guns and shoot on command.

He doesn’t keep track of how many sets he’s pulled apart and glued together, the ones that stay untouched as the ones where the Ricks couldn’t be bothered with their Morty and the same goes with the Mortys. It’s a passive relationship, the ideal relationship.

Let nothing go further and don’t think of Ricks worthy of your attention.

 

  
_It's easy to say I'm sentimental, soft and whiny._  
_And I like to much to ... bla bla bla,_  
_but no, they're important._

 

 

**If they use you, use them back.**

Probably one of the most heavy lessons he’s had to drill into their minds. He’s realized most Mortys as by nature soft, almost docile creatures, pliant little things that seemed like putty in his hands ready to be molded into whatever he deemed necessary. Mortys are sentimental, soft and whiny. They cry a little too easily, they stutter when they’re too nervous, they cry when sad. 

They’re human. 

Their President is a strong Morty, one that doesn’t cower but glares when a Rick raises his voice, one that can command Rick guards easily with a snap of fingers - one that has his own Rick dancing at the palm of his hand like an abused puppet on strings.

**If they use you, use them back.**

They idolize him, because he represents a power they long to have.

 

  
_You know life is about having children,_  
_but as always, it's never the right moment._  
_Oh, of course you're present when making them,_  
_but when raising you’re always absent._

 

 

He thinks back to his family, his supposed family, from Beth to the pitiful excuse of an existence of Jerry to his once beloved sister Summer. They’re depressing really, a mother too hindered by the former loss of a father who was never there. A father with self confidence issues and facing a failing marriage. A sister too focused on wrestling for the title of “grandpa’s favourite” while dealing with a household ready to collapse on itself from one problem to another. 

President Morty is almost glad he never met his family. Not exactly anyways.

He relishes in memory technology to its fullest, he doesn’t bother forgetting - who would want to forget? Experience builds character, and he has all form of memory guns banned and only issued to special divisions assigned to cases of necessary memory wipe.

The President has his own little collection of these vials, all plucked and stolen from unsuspecting Mortys, Ricks, Beths, sometimes Summers (but never Jerrys, they’re the most useless ones of all). A free range for him to pick and choose from if he ever feels the need to incite a form of sympathy from the crowd; harder to relate stories if he was never really there to experience it in the first place.

So the masses think of their Morty President as a run of mill, unfortunate soul. 

But in reality, he’s just a monster worse than any Rick in existence.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing was a definition that never suited him better.

 

  
_When I'm no longer beautiful,_  
_or at least natural._  
_Stop, I know you're lying,_  
_only Kate Moss is everlasting._  
_Ugly or stupid, it's never good enough!_  
_Stupid or beautiful, it's never good enough!_  
_Beautiful or me, it's never good enough!_  
_Me or (him), it's never good enough!_

 

 

He loves Ricks for their insightful way of thought, he loves them because they’re so utterly helpless and yet so vengefully glorified that some can meet the barrel of his gun pointed at their forehead with laughter and daring smirks of triumph as if death was just another mountain to conquer among the galaxies they seemed to think they owned.

He loves Ricks because they remind him of himself, so he hates them.

He loves Morty’s for their meekfulness, the way they manage to remain silent yet thrum with unbridled energy and ferocity when uninhibited, he loves them for their seemingly idealistic way of thought and eyes that would seem iridescent with the way the galaxies are gazed into as if some long - lost treasure and they were just boys wanting to explore the world.

He loves Mortys because they remind him of his old self, so he hates them.

 

 

 _All the same, all the same, all the same -  
_ **_all the same and we're fed up._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed that, honestly I had too much fun typing this all up under around four hours or so?????? Which is a record for me considering I take about a week to finish my usual oneshots ... Honestly though I'm so invested into Rick and Morty right now so expect more oneshots from me in the later future?? Who knows anymore!
> 
> I'm really sorry for never updating my old fics too ... you could say I'm having the heaviest block since I'm not so into BNHA anymore hahahahaplsdontkillme. On that note I still have lots of comments I've yet to get to, and I'm sorry for never replying to them! You could say interacting is????? Mentally a little exhausting for an introvert like me.
> 
> Had fun? I run an Evil Morty Tumblr Roleplay blog over at [@noricks](http://noricks.tumblr.com/), come say hi!
> 
> Alternatively I have my personal Tumblr over at [@templaris](http://templaris.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Leave some kudos to motivate me! Leave a comment to make me cry, in a good way!


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